


First Words Repeating

by heartlesslynx



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: After the grave, Empty, Feels, Found Family, Kind of spoiler episode 14, Mollymauk beginning, Panic attack vague mention, The begining fic, idk how to tag this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-14
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-04-22 18:56:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14315028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartlesslynx/pseuds/heartlesslynx
Summary: “Empty.” He murmured. Whoever ‘he’ was being an uncertain fact he had yet to place, the blur since the dirt and the empty field, the dark sky his only companion.





	First Words Repeating

 “Empty.” He murmured. Whoever ‘he’ was being an uncertain fact he had yet to place, the blur since the dirt and the empty field, the dark sky his only companion. The word in his throat almost burned, like his lungs after he dug himself out of his grave. There was no cause, there was no reason. Just the small things that stayed. He could breathe, he could stand, he could walk. He could see his skin, the vibrant purple barely discernible in the night. But as the sun rose he could see the hue, the bright color occasionally marked with red. He spied red markings, two on his hands, one on his chest, another on his shoulder. It didn't mean anything to him, no context or understanding. Just empty. Like his head. Like his memory.

He had started to walk down the dirt road not long after the sun rose. There was little he knew, just forward. He felt so empty, the world so bright. But he kept moving. There had to be something.

The sun crossed the sky. It set. He kept moving. The road diverged, the path going in two directions, no markings to identify what lay at the end. He looked down both paths, nothing different than the alignment of the sparse tree line on either side. He looked for signs of tracks, of other people, but only found dirt swept paths that seemed abandoned. He turned to  path at random, moving forward regardless.

The sun rose again and he didn't stop moving. He was so hollow, so empty in every conceivable way. He only knew forward. Until the time between blinks lengthened, leaving moments behind his eyelids that started to blend together. Until the ground left his feet, and he could clearly see the sky whenever his eyes opened. Until his eyes could open no more

 

He awoke again, the panic clawing in his chest. The dirt and the memory of the grave clouding his awakening mind. His eyes flew open as his lungs began to tighten, clawing under layers to sit up. A voice in the background, giving orders at the sound of it. He couldn't tell, he couldn't breathe. The world was so bright, so colorful. It felt wrong. He couldn't focus on anything, his heart beating so rapidly it hurt. He curled forward, trying to catch his breath.

Yasha could have killed Toya. The thirteen year old had been wandering too far from the camp the last few days, and her uncanny ability to bring trouble with her was getting on Yasha’s nerves. So when Toya had come running up to her tent, something about a collapsed teifling man on the road, she couldn't say she was surprised. She had procured one of the smaller carts from the hands working on the main tent, following the dwarven girl to the man. 

He looked worse for wear, dirty and unmoving beside the road. But his chest rose and fell, meaning he still lived. Meaning he was now her problem. At least until he woke up and explained how in the hell he ended up on the road leading to their summer camp. There wasn't supposed to be anyone for miles about, the closest town over a day and a half away on foot. 

Yasha pulled the purple tiefling into the cart, the man surprisingly light for his size. She pushed the cart down the path, Toya leading her to the healer’s tent. With a show of their size, they needed one on hand more often than not. But the tent was empty when they arrived, meaning the healer was likely elsewhere, being of use.

“Hold open the flap, Toya.” Yasha grunted, beginning to pick up the man again. The dwarven girl did as asked, and between the two of them they managed to get him onto one of the set up cots.

“do you think he will wake up?” Toya asked, staring at the man.

“Only time will tell.” Yasha said, patting the young woman's shoulder.

Yasha had stationed herself at the healers tent, keeping an eye on the teifling fellow. Toya had been dispersed to tell Gustav about the situation, not wanting the ringmaster to worry himself over the situation. Yasha had it under control. Or so she thought.

Toya had stationed herself beside the tiefling’s cot, working on mending a costume to keep her hands busy. So when the dwarven girl had murmured “Yasha, I think he’s waking up.”, Yasha was immediately on high alert. She watched the unconscious man’s form, the now sudden rise and fall of his chest much different than the slow movements from when they had brought him in. She stepped more into the tent, ushering for Toya to move farther from the cot.

And none too soon. As soon as the young dwarf was behind her, the teifling man’s eyes opened, and rapidly the situation devolved.

“Toya, go tell Gustav to keep people away from the healers tent and then stay with him.” Yasha ordered, the young dwarf rapidly obeying. As soon as the tent flap was closed behind her, Yasha took a harder look at the tiefling. He had bolted up so quickly, but now was curled in on himself, his breaths far too quick. 

“H-hey, it's ok.” Yasha started, unsure what to do. “You’re safe, we found you on the side of the road. We-” The tiefling mumbled something in between panicked breaths. Yasha paused, listening closely.

“E-empty” the voice croaked between pained breaths. Yasha’s eyes stared intensely, recognizing whatever she had assumed about this encounter was about to be turned on its head.

Several months had passed for Molly. The initial blur was still a little frightening, but he tried not to dwell on it. No sense in focusing on the past when you can't remember it. The first weeks at the circus seemed so strange, looking back. Everything so bright, as if he hadn't know color before. The circus had quickly become something to hold onto. Something to remember. The rag tag family had accepted the empty headed teifling without question, giving him a place around their fires, offering what little they had. They were beautiful folk, and he was grateful to be a part of it all.

“Ready to go?” Yasha asked, the barbarian standing with her arms crossed at the flap to his tent.

“Of course, my dear.” Molly said sweetly, the tinkle of the new jewellery on his horns and ears a comforting sound. “Let's go get some customers.” He grabbed his jacket, the multi colored monstrosity created from Toya’s mending skills and scraps from the various destroyed costumes the circus seemed to create on a weekly basis. It was bright, it was heavy, and it was memorable. Which he needed sorely some days.

Yasha gave him a look, before stepping into his space, rearranging his collar this way and that. The peacock that graced his chest and neck was fully healed, but Yasha continued to mess with the collar until it lay just so. “Might as well show it off.” She murmured, having sat with him through the sessions it had taken to do it. And the sitting through the sleepless nights afterward when the red marks refused to take ink, leaving Molly frustrated by the remnants of a past that he had no memory of.

“Well, shall we?” Molly asked with a grin. Yasha rolled her eyes, turning to leave the tent again. The two were going to town to find more folks to bring to the show that night. With any luck, they could fill the stands. And with full stands, they could witness the family of their circus becoming living art. And for now, that was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> So first time writing for critical role but seeing as this fandom currently owns my soul maybe more later.  
> Please comment your thoughts on how personally attacked you feel thanks to talesin's character development.  
> Also wrote this because angst.  
> Don't ask what this fic is, I feel like i wrote this in a fever dream.  
> Also if talesin finds this I don't exist; k?
> 
>  
> 
> And on a different note, this is why you don't give me espresso


End file.
